The Call

Each time they call, I convince myself beforehand that this will be The Call. This will be The Call where they tell me that they think we should end it. Whatever it is. The thing that needs an ending. I am almost certain of it.

And each time they call, I am shocked. Utterly shocked when what I expect them to say is not said. That the ending I expect is not how the call ends. I’m not sure how I would describe how the call ends, except that it lacks an ending.

But it could happen the next time. At least, I was given the chance to live to see a next time.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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